


Wanderings of the Eye

by BagOfBees



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Adventure, Existentialism in general, Journey towards the end of time, Lore - Freeform, The End (Minecraft), The Nether (Minecraft), The Overworld (Minecraft), theory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:27:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27441154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BagOfBees/pseuds/BagOfBees
Summary: The universe unfolded, and the Endermen awoke. Journey through the eternal eyes of a little Enderman as he wanders through time and witnesses the world, befriending a bee along the way and trailing the mystery of The Player, until at long last the world fragments into a lingering dusk of ages. A story of my take on the lore of Minecraft in which the Overworld is the present, the Nether is the far past, and the End is the far far future doomed to only exist.
Kudos: 12





	Wanderings of the Eye

We were the first.

The universe unfolded, and together we awoke.

I stood there, in the beginning. Violet luminescent eyes, slender limbs, elongated body of inky material unknown to this realm. Of course it was unknown. Nothing physical existed, save the plain we stood upon, speckled and glossy. Above us, there lay only void. I--one of seemingly infinite beings scattered across the dusky dark distance as flickering droplets of violet light--saw my own self reflected in each and every one of my kind. I wished to explore, to leave this endless repetition, though no amount of travel appeased my desires. For all the knowledge we sought, the universe, in its irony, bestowed us with none save that of a name. The Endermen.

Yet what possible good is a name? What identity could we have had amidst this empty canvas?

This does not matter yet. We have time to wait.

We have only just begun.

So there I stood. From block to countless block, I warped in instantaneous movement, across expansive distances at a time. Sometimes I stood for years, peering up into the void, lost within. Often I peered down, at my feet, and at the eternal expanse of course rock providing their sole support. Time and again I attempted to pick it up. It never budged. While we warped throughout the expanse in an ever shifting dance, it remained immovable and everlasting.

How sure it was of its place in the world.

Above me, the void stretched into oblivion. We brushed the edge of that pure, undiluted darkness, as it loomed above. It fascinated me. That ever promising, ever stagnant, dangerously familiar nothing.

And yet.

And yet, gazing up into the void, I never once saw a nothing. I saw everything.

I saw everything that could be, everything that might be in its boundless glory. I saw flourishing growth, in pendulum with destruction, continuously allowing for creation. I imagined the possibility of all things, and longed to love them all, as I gazed up into that void. Such a rush of sensation for what could be. And in each and every possibility I saw a race to grow, a world hastening to bloom, fuller and brighter as time allowed.

I never understood how such beautiful ideas arose. They appeared as echoes to me, as if through distant memory, and yet I had only just begun my adventure. I had yet to experience the inspiration for such dreams. All I could do was wonder. All I could do was dream.

And now we wait.

~

More exists now, beneath the bedrock.

The below vibrated with energy ever stronger, as time continued to make its way forward, leaping and bounding into full fledged ripeness after remaining idle for so long.

I warped into a cave deep down. Heat penetrated through the moldable scarlet rock as it shifted in its ever changing form, interconnecting into a womb for creation. I picked up a block and moved it to the far wall, attempting to replicate the cave’s pattern. I did my best to help the caves reposition themselves into whichever direction they chose for that era. Yet Netherrack was a silly thing. It never remained still, re-molding itself again and again, always backtracking, always shifting. I did my best to help. Maybe helping the rock was my purpose, even if in vain. If anything, at least I was making a friend. I hoped it saw me in that way, too.

The caves extend far into the distance now.

I did not aid their movements anymore. They did not need my help. Now, I traveled. I warped throughout the caves, far above the lava floor. I watched, I listened. I anticipated.

They appear now, in discrete little alcoves.

I found them nestled, young, in their own beginning, tucked safely away so they could grow. Life originated then, tucked into the cavernous corners, and, as it grew bolder, flourished into the open.

We are no longer alone.

~

I remember The Roamers.

Great, ancient beasts of the nether, they ambled by with massive sweeping strides, covering enormous distances at a time. They left trails of craters in their wake, the pools of lava within emitting a warm glow, a warning of the treacherous fate awaiting any who fell in. These I shadowed in fascination. They never seemed to reach a destination, wandering aimlessly on and on, searching, yet never finding. Only when they grew tired did they seek out their final resting place, settling down their bodies upon the gentle nest-like slopes of misty blue valleys, seemingly proper beds in which they laid down their bones. Collectively they formed a sand. Such haunted sand. As if it weeped in soulful silence, an invisible voice seeking sweet respite, a destination, a purpose. Wailing for an absent wish, forever ungranted to the great kings of the nether.

They did not last long. They disappeared one by one, swept aside, replaced by generations upon generations of creatures. Their descendents strode across the lakes and flew, wailing throughout the chasms, yet the curse of unknown purpose, of restless desire, dwindled away with those who roamed.

I pass by such a valley, and my heart aches.

For what did they roam?

And why did the universe ignore their plea?

~

Emptiness. The nether loses its warmth. Our home of ancient past, of worldly beginnings, will no longer provide the nurturing care once so treacherous, so wild and full of bountiful energy. Life has reached its potential here. The creatures within grow tired of the cold. They wish to be free.

It is time to leave. To flee to the above, so remote and unknown. Those intelligent enough revive the ancient portals which have dotted the landscape for so long now. Life exits its home of old, departing one by one in final farewell.

I longingly gaze at the cavernous landscape, now so solemnly still. I remember. At last I warp up, leaving the nether in its finality.

~

We enter the overworld.

Warmth, pure and joyous and delicious blazed from the sun, gleaming directly overhead, blinding me with its undiluted beauty. At high noon, I began my journey.

The drastic changes of my ever-working sibling, eternal time, astounded me as I wandered. I warped deep beneath the surface, discovering layers and layers of earth resting atop our imobile foundation upon which we came to be.

The world changed, and I listened.

Mountains rose high above the clouds, then fell far beneath the waves. Numerous biomes arose and spread to form the landscape, pressing and shifting along their borderlines in momentum.

The land was alive, and so was I.

I warped wherever I pleased, across endless lifetimes, collecting everything I saw for my own little world of dreams. I always paused to contemplate the creatures I encountered, presenting them with the blocks I had brought from half a world away. They never understood the tales I tried to tell them in my garbled vocalizations. That was ok. I enjoyed our interactions anyway.

I loved the snow, in its gradual fall, so silent and tranquil. I loved the lilypads, capping the water as they bounced along to the tune of the grass, and the rough response of gravel beneath my feet. Everything I came upon in my wanderings sparked a joy, and I treasured every discovery.

Rain stung. I hid from it, safely tucked away in temporary shelter, shying away from this odd confining force which drizzled from the sky. Yet life welcomed its presence, and so I loved it too.

At night the world slowed and I gazed in wonder at the stars.

As tendrils of color softened the deep expanse of night sky, signalling incoming dawn, I dreamt of my beginning. I recalled the very instant I gained my consciousness, and how much I had yearned to understand, then, to see all the world wished to offer. Yet despite awakening amidst eternal absence, I always remembered a fleeting glimpse of a before. As the horizon pressed against the barrier of night, I stood, hoping to catch that momentary tease, to remember. And every time, just before the sun glimpsed across the land in a burst of beginning, I briefly caught a hold of it. 

A sense of longing for a childhood home. As if I began not at the beginning, but in the moment before, in the final drop of night before the tick of morning. The instant before the sun rose anew awakened a familiarity of the moment, a familiarity of my purpose.

I kept on. I wandered the world.

And it was astounding.

And now we wait.

~

I could reminisce about The Civilizations.

They travelled, they built. They never failed to abandon their homes in search of more, forever more. They flew across the waves in their ships, dauntless in their pursuit of discovery, hunting the monsters and shaping the land into variable structures of their own design. They prided in their courage, thinking themselves invulnerable and against the world.

Eventually they met their fall. The weak stayed behind in miniscule villages, while the strong sunk beneath the oceans as the waves consumed their ships.

They seemed unworthy of much remembrance.

~

On my favorite day I played with a flower.

Alone in the field, I stilled, a golden blossom in my grasp. It engaged in its gentle dance, swaying in the breeze. I heard a resonating hum, revealing the arrival of a little bee. He approached, perching tenderly upon my flower. There we were, motionless under the settling sun, as time granted us a slip of sweet respite. It parted around us, as the rush of a stream parts for a stone, allowing us momentary silence. There we were, simply happy to be.

It rained, then, as the sky released its musical symphony.

We hid in a cave. Together we sat in that dark and cool escape, hidden from the world, sheltered from the droplets pattering above. There we waited, the bee and I, alone. After a time the rain softened, and he peered up at me. I responded, gazing down at him, our eyes meeting in sentimental fondness, in a kindling of friendship.

My sight reacted then, as our eyes locked, instantaneously plunging in, seeking the core of his very being. Just as it had revealed to me the knowledge of every creature that had ever met my gaze throughout my eternal journey, it revealed to me every imaginable detail of his existence in spontaneous flood of sensation.

And despite all my descentions into countless creatures I had come to meet throughout the vastness of time, none sparked a connection as wonderful as the charm of my little friend.

I saw warm summers, circulating with cozy winters spent snoozing in a fuzzy little home. To bumble around to the whimsical stroke of the wind, sweet in purpose, curious yet carefree. Slow and basking in the dust of effervescent blossoms, a life of color, of leisurely purpose.

I loved my little friend for everything he was.

And now we wait.

We meet the new beginning.

~

The tree floated. At the crest of forest and plain, it stood there, imposing in the very miracle of its existence. I hesitated, emitting a brief garble of surprise, and thought nothing more.

A dirt mound, an odd distortion in the world, sat in the center of the grassy plain. I could have easily recreated it, shaping dirt with ease, yet the desire never arose. I wondered what may have incited this little build, and thought nothing more.

And I find him. The anomaly, rearranging the world at his every whim.

I found the player.

Hidden in the brush, I marveled at his routine. When the sun shone bright and clear, he played. He mined and trekked in pursuit of adventure. When the sun hid, he hid too, inside his dingy hut. He questioned his every motive, afraid to venture too far from home. He deliberated in every movement, as if unsure of what to do. He collected, adding to his house just a few blocks at a time. He grew his home, and found joy in every little action. He seemed like a friend.

Eventually we formed a sort of familiarity. I would warp by him in passing, as I grew bolder, even coming to stand right beside him, his every movement igniting my own curiosity.

When I first emerged in greeting he hid from me. He seemed shy, a little afraid. As the monsters disappeared at the dawning of the sun, I remained. Eventually he grew accustomed to my presence, and a sort of bond emerged. I always observed him, from a distance, in the glimmer of shadow or still from behind a cave wall.

And so I remained, as he played.

He never met my eyes, no matter how persistently I attempted to meet his. Head bowed in intense concentration, he always concealed himself as he passed by.

I understood. He was shy, secretive, still new to this world.

I moved on, my heart seeking endless other pursuits additional to this oddity.

And for a breath of time, we wait.

We find the player again.

He ventured, now, boldly across the land. Metallic coverings gleamed upon him, protecting him from the creatures of the dark, who he challenged for the sake of nothing but the challenge itself. He no longer fled the night. Instead, he embraced the opportunities of the world, heart ablazing in joyous pursuit. He built in his particular corner of the world, shaping it to his creative whim.

He spoke to himself, as he worked, scraps of speech emitting in a sort of hazed mumbling, as if through an otherworldly veil. He never appeared to be aware of this odd habit. As much as I tried, I could never comprehend his mutterings.

I followed him for a time. He seemed to excite whenever I warped near, as if in response to the enigma of my presence, just as I marveled his own.

Yet even now, he never met my eyes. He remained shy, and perplexed as I was, I let him be.

Again I diverged from our path, in sight of the world as we continued through time.

And in a present finality, our paths converge again.

I feared him then, as I watched from afar, content to remain a figure of the distance. His presence emitted a sense of danger, a cultivating hunger. He was sure of himself, experienced in the world, and he wanted more.

His whisperings grew fervent, as he played, constantly in search of something. I imagined I caught a scrap, a brief vocalization which even I could understand.

“Look for..the..eye”

I left him then, far behind, significant now only in his brief bubble of the past. I moved on, navigating the strands of time, a distance of eons between us.

And we wait.

And the world begins to crumble.

~

It began as an eerie presence, an omniscient echo of inevitability, dark and promising, as twisted imaginings lurked evermore at the periphery of the world. Behind the shroud, it scratched, gauging deeper and deeper as its time approached, just out of reach of the material plane. It ached for an existence of its own.

And at long last the shell cracked. The intrusion burst forth upon the world, free from the egg at last.

And the edges of the world eroded.

And all fragmented.

~

I watched the beginning of the end, as life, so pure and still so young, desperately sought respite from the contagion.

It could not hide. It could not run.

I cannot remember the final sigh as it winked out into memory. I could only remember my friend of days long gone. Warm and innocent, happy and free to frolic through the breeze in a time of sun and air and life and love.

I grieved.

I grieved for all lost, and for all remaining unreached, forever remaining in a future now never impending.

The colors of existence washed out. Plants shriveled into the dirt, and soon it too blew away into nothingness. The sun, in a slow burnout, fought to stay, yet after lingering in a dusk of ages it too vanished into eternal night, an inky darkness absent of moon and stars, as the void reclaimed the world.

Sometimes I saw her. The dragon, emerger of the egg, imposter of our world. She soared above, relishing in her corruption as she grew ever stronger.

I watched her. Despite the ruin she brought, she was not wicked. She emitted her negative energy, feeding upon the corpse of the world, yet she only acted in however way was most natural for her. As if she were lost from a home worlds away, her influence entirely otherworldly, our own too delicate to maintain her.

I could not hate.

However much my heart wished, I could not hate her.

Stone collapsed within itself, earthy grey leaking out, replaced by a shade of distorted and sickly yellow. Far below, our support of days long ago, too, vanished. The foundation of our world, forever immobile and sure, was no more. Even bedrock abandoned us to this cruel, unyielding future.

Had the universe abandoned us, too? For what did it name us, only to leave us in decay?

We cannot help but wait.

~

We warp together now, across the bitter remains of our world. In ever-changing momentum, we dance upon death itself.

The dragon circled at the epicenter of it all, amidst her pillars. She held the world captive in its unchanging state, no longer allowing it to crumble. She did so as she guarded her youth, concealing her egg from the mortal eye as it evolved within itself, predestined for destruction.

I no longer imagined any beauty, any potential, any wonder in the void above. We had lived our dreams, and now we were doomed to only exist.

~

And the player arrived.

He appeared, no different than the last time I had crossed his way, when I had abandoned him far behind in his own stretch of time. I did not dwell on how he managed to leap across the boundaries of the continuum. It did not matter.

He shimmered, now, exhilarating in his purpose, gloriously determined. He raced towards the dragon, magnificent in his very presence, the last of a beauty lost long ago.

I watched the battle between player and survivor, the world’s final struggle for release.

And in a burst of light, a final scream, he emerged victorious. The dragon ceased to be, and its rigid grasp upon the world fell away.

We were free.

The world could move on, its remains finally allowed to crumble, enabling it to drift on as it greeted its final slumber.

At long last we were free to die.

~

The player turned, then, momentarily lost in achievement and entirely unaware of my presence, as he shifted his gaze across my own.

Our eyes locked.

And I saw him.

Truly, for the first time, I saw the spectacle of his life. I saw him create, thrive, a wonder to behold.

I saw him yearn for the dragon egg, nothing more in his eyes than a concluding relic of his own journey. I saw him steal it into the overworld, into our past, his present. I saw him leave it there, a plague upon the world.

I saw him, the cause of the end for all things that had been, and all things that were never to be.

I saw in him the inevitability of the world ripping itself apart.

And in a desperate scream of rage, for the sake of love, of warm happenings and endless pursuits, of sweet summers, our sun, our friendship, for potential forever lost, left to rot unopened and alone, I attacked.

I leapt in, striking at him mercilessly, seeking only to end his fate upon us. I sought to harm, as I shrieked, letting loose in ferocious attacks in an attempt to end this struggle as quickly as I possibly could.

He hit me back, and in a wave of pain I warped away, momentarily astounded.

I was mortal.

I had traveled the ends of time, trekked the world and the creatures upon it. I had obtained the story of existence itself, in my silent gaze, invisible in the moment yet ever present. Even so, I could meet my end here. The thought had never occurred. My own existence, all that I had ever seen in my purposeful wanderings had a chance to end at this very moment.

Yet for the life that never could, I was prepared to fight. I returned my attack, harsher and ever the more enraged, prepared to stop his doing, prepared for an end.

I killed him.

And in response my heart gaped, threatening to imprison me in the aftermath of first hate. I had concluded the being of this life, so independent and naive in purpose. He had played, yet in blind pursuit sought to collect the egg, an encasement of chaotic corruption unbeknownst to all except the beings of the end.

He was not at fault, and yet, his doing brought upon this lacking future.

I stood there, and in sensation of inescapable finality I shifted my gaze up once more, seeking out the epicenter of the pillars and the portal newly arisen.

There bounded the player, returned, egg in grasp, mid leap into the gateway to the bountiful world of before. He met my eyes, and in a warped sense of glory, in gleaming defiance, he vanished through the portal, forever lost to us through time unyielding.

We have little more to wait.

~

I thought of my beginning, so vast and bountiful, the seed of all to come.

I thought of the void, sprinkled in possibility, beholder of all things.

I remembered the nether, a dawn of age and life unraveled, and our escape to the overworld.

I mourned the fall, an abruption come much too early.

Lastly, I thought of my friend and our time of happy days amidst golden blue skies.

I warped for the remainder of the world, dreaming of joyful remembrance, simply glad to have been.

~

We must go now.

Time meets its end.

And the universe is here, as my body ceases to be.

And it nestles me in its soft grasp, a child cupped in the loveable hands of its mother, helplessly secure in soft bliss, as the universe cradles the very core of my being.

And as the night fades anew, it dips its fingers into my memories.

And as the universe unfolds, it scatters me across the endless pool of absence.

And together, we awake.

We begin anew.


End file.
